


Refugee

by thenakednymph



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 3 - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I just needed fic for them okay, ME3, That turian c-sec officer and the human refugee from the third game, reasons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 02:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5649991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thax is overwhelmed by the misery in the galaxy the reapers have caused, but if he can help this one human girl maybe that will be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Speedily cobbled together so if you guys catch anything please let me know.

“Thax? Hey, Thax.” A heavy hand drops onto Thax's shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. And his staring. “Shift's over. Why don't you get out of here?”

Thax runs a hand over his face and leans back in his chair scratching at his plates. His back pops and he groans. He's tired. It had been another long day, but every day had been like that since the Reapers attacked. He wasn't sure it would ever end. “Yeah,” he mumbles, wincing at the exhaustion thrumming through his sub-harmonics. The human doesn't seem to pick up on it though and Thax breathes a sigh of relief. He hasn't been sleeping well.

“See you after night cycle,” he mutters, rising from the chair and the human nods.

“Hey Thax,” the human calls as Thax walks away. “Get some sleep, you look like shit.” Thax waves over his shoulder but doesn't turn around. Damn. Maybe humans were more perceptive than he thought.

His eyes wander back to the girl again, his footsteps slowing and his gaze lingers. He's been doing that a lot lately. Staring. It's rude, he knows it is, but he can't seem to stop, doesn't even realize he's doing it some days.

He isn't sure what makes him turn back and walk over to her, but he's standing in front of her before he realizes it and it's too late to turn back. She looks up at him and her smile, the hope in her eyes is blinding. It makes his heart ache.

“Hey, you're that C-sec officer from before right? Thax?”

He nods, surprised she recognizes him. Most humans say all turians look alike and he finds he's oddly pleased to be remembered. “I'm sorry,” he says, “I never got your name.”

The girl smiles again, sticking out her hand as she stands and she's so small next to him. “Talatha Mattingley.”

He takes her hand gently, afraid to squeeze too tightly, that he'll hurt her. Humans are so soft, so vulnerable without any kind of exoskeleton and he feel awakward holding her little hand in his, hyper-aware of just how easy it would be to crush it, to grind her bones together.

Humans are a wonder. He's can't believe they've made it this far into the galaxy without killing themselves off as a species. It's even more surprising that a human of all things could be leading them headlong into an impossible fight to save the galaxy against a race of sentient machines intent on killing them all. What's more, that she thinks she can win. Stranger yet, Thax believes in her. Believes she of all people actually can. She has to.

“Thax Banaris,” he says, introducing himself. Talatha had been on the Citadel for three days. Or at least that's how long he's been aware of her. He hasn't gone so far as to check the log to see when she actually arrived, but maybe when he gets back home.

She'd come in on one of the emergency transports from the Terminus system when one of the human colonies had been attacked, that much she'd told him when he'd asked her if she was all right. She'd insisted she was fine, just waiting for her parents. He'd kept an eye on her since then, watching her wander the docks every morning looking for her parents but also offering comfort and words of hope where she could, doing her best to help in spite of everything.

Thax had checked the logs obsessively every time a ship came in looking for incoming ships from her planet but so far nothing. He supposed there was still a slim chance they'd only been separated in the fighting, that her family was still alive somewhere else, that they'd managed to board a different transport, but the system is buried deep in Reaper space now and it's far more likely they're dead. Still, Thax can't bring himself to tell her. There's enough misery in the galaxy right now. Is it so wrong of him to want to keep that spark of life of hope alive just a little while longer? He hopes not.

Talatha is watching him expectantly and Thax shifts awkwardly. “Do you...have some place to stay?” he asks.

Talatha shakes her head, her lips forming a little 'oh' of surprise and she holds up her hands. “Oh no, no I'm fine. Don't worry.” She gestures to the bench she'd been sitting on. The same one he knows she's been sleeping on since she arrived. “I carved out a little space all to myself.”

Thax glances at the other refugees squeezed together nearby, some already shifting towards the space she's vacated, vying for room. There are people everywhere, packed into every available space and with more arriving every day and tensions growing between species, each blaming the other for what's happened he's afraid more fights will be breaking out soon, that it's going to escalate and innocent people are going to be hurt. He's already broken up three in the past week.

Talatha's so young and she's all alone. He's afraid she'll get into trouble with no one here to look after her and he knows no one will. It's everyone for themselves right now and he can't really blame them. He knows how common thievery becomes in squalor and she's a prime target. He can't just leave her here, not when he's able to help her.

“I've got some space...up in my apartment,” he offers, gesturing over his shoulder, the words slow and awkward. “It's up on the Citadel if you'd like.” Too late he realizes it sounds like he's propositioning her and he wants to slap himself. “Not like that, I just, I mean.” He mumbles a curse swiping a hand over his face.

“You're sweet,” she says, bouncing on the the balls of her feet. “But I'm okay, really. My parents will be here soon.”

Thax shifts awkwardly, his mandibles fluttering in distress. “It'd get you out of the docks at least. I don't think your parents would want you here. It's dangerous. And we can come back in the morning to see if they've come in,” he offers.

Talatha bites her lip looking back at the bench behind her, scanning the humans and aliens scattered about.

“And it'd make some more room for other incoming refugees.” Talatha seems to consider the offer but shakes her head. Thax hurries on with one last ditch effort before she can say no. “I can flag your parents' names in the system. Makes sure if any ships come in from that area of the traverse I get an alert sent right to my omni-tool. That way you'll know before anyone else.” He taps his arm where the tool flicks to life. He shrugs. “It's better than waiting down here, searching person by person and maybe missing them. The Citadel's a big place.”

Talatha blinks at him in awe. “You can do that?”

Thax smiles sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. He'd already tagged anything coming in from the terminus and her home planet and now that he had her name he could do a more specific search, but he wasn't sure how to tell her that. “Yeah. If your parents come in you'll be the first to know. I may even be able to sync up to a few other planets that have taken on refugees, ask around, see if maybe you're parents are there.” It's a long shot, a terrible, impossible long shot but he can't resist making the offer anyway. He doesn't want to give her false hope but he'd do anything to keep her smiling. It's not really a lie, but he doubts it'll be of much help.

Talatha narrows her eyes suspiciously and Thax heart races thinking he's been caught. “Promise?” She sticks her pinky out and Thax is confused by the gesture. Talatha takes his hand, wrapping her little finger around one of his. “Promise?” she asks again and something in her voice sounds so vulnerable and afraid he finds himself squeezing back reflexively.

“Promise,” he says gently and Talatha nods. Apparently pleased by the answer she disentangles their fingers.

“Okay.” She collects her things, offering her blanket to a shell shocked asari who doesn't seem to notice her. Her friend takes the blanket, exchanging a few words with Talatha before draping the blanket around her friends shoulders and wrapping an arm around her. Talatha nods and smiles before coming back to stand beside Thax, an old leather jacket draped over her arms but nothing else.

“Is that all you have?” Thax regrets the words the second he says them. Of course it's all she has. She's a refugee. He feels like a moron but Talatha nods apparently unoffended.

“There wasn't much time to pack and the transports had weight limits. The more we could leave behind the more people we could get off-world.”

Something in Thax's chest squeezes. “So you left everything,” he says.

Talatha shrugs as if it wasn't one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. “We didn't have much choice. And besides. Nothing I own is worth more than another person's life.”

Somehow Thax doubts that. Few people would have had her courage. He isn't sure he himself would have been as brave in the same situation and some part of him admires her.

Thax shakes his head in awe, leading her through the crowds and towards the elevator. She'd lost so much in the past few weeks, they all had. But he couldn't help them all. There was too much to do, too many people. But one person, one little girl. Her he could help.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a really sad turn next chapter which I wasn't expecting. It's written and will hopefully be posted soon.

Thax lingers awkwardly in the doorway as Talatha steps inside the apartment, looking around in awe. It isn't much. Just a standard designated space provided by c-sec and it isn't very big, but she seems impressed anyway. He wishes he'd thought to clean up before he left for work that morning, the place is messier than he would have liked, but it wasn't like he'd planned to bring someone home with him any time soon. He resists the urge to straighten up behind Talatha's back by clasping his hands together in front of him though he's itching to straighten the pile of books and miscellany on the coffee table.

He gestures to the couch hoping she won't notice. “You can sleep there if you'd like. I don't know how comfortable it'll be, but it's probably a far sight better than the bench back in the docks,” he says. It feels strange having someone else in his space, especially a human and he isn't sure what to do or say and ends up hovering in the middle of the room feeling awkward. “I'll get you a pillow and a blanket.” He shuffles into his bedroom trying to find something she can use as a pillow, belatedly realizing he doesn't have something suitable for a human. He settles on a second blanket and takes them out to her feeling abashed.

“Sorry. Turians don't really use pillows but I thought you could fold the blanket up and rest your head on it instead? I didn't really think about it.” He holds the blankets out like an apology and Talatha takes them, hugging them close to her chest before setting them on the cushions like they're something precious.

“That's all right. It's better than nothing.”

He realizes she'd likely been using the old jacket as a pillow or a blanket on the colder nights. His mandibles flutter nervously as he gropes for something to say. “I tend to keep it a little warm in here. Turians don't like the cold.” He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “But the thermostat's over there if you need to turn it down in the night or something.”

Talatha smiles, carefully folding her jacket and placing it beside the bedding. “I'll be okay. I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable.” He's about to argue but she speaks first. “And it's nice to be warm again.” She chafes at her arms remembering the chill in the docking bay and Thax winces. He makes a mental note to see about finding more blankets to disperse among the refugees tomorrow. It was a little cold down in the bays, even for him.

They stare at each other in awkward silence, Thax shifting his weight nervously until Talatha's stomach growls and she blushes.

Thax is horrified at his lack of manners and nearly trips over himself. “I'm so sorry.” He scrambles into the kitchen looking for something he can feed her that won't kill her and begins to babble. “It's been years since I last had company. I should have offered you something to eat, spirits that was so rude. You must be hungry. Of course you'd be hungry.

“I don't have much of anything in the way of levo-based food or...well anything really.” He looks at her in apology, feeling his neck heat in embarrassment and realizes this entire thing was probably really stupid. “I guess I need to go grocery shopping.” He scratches at the back of his head with a talon. “I didn't really plan this out very well did I?”

Talatha smiles again, swaying on the balls of her feet. “That's okay. It's sweet of you to think about it at all. I still have a few rations on me though.” She gestures to the coat where Thax assumes she's hidden some away.

Thax frowns. “Well if levo rations are anything like dextro rations they can't be that good.” He shakes his head. “No, I'd rather get you some real food. There's a bathroom through there.” He points to his bedroom. “If you'd like a shower while I'm out. I shouldn't be long.”

Talatha nods and Thax can feel her eyes linger on him until the door to the apartment closes at his back.

~

Talatha wanders the apartment for a little while after Thax is gone, her eyes tracing the spines of the books on his shelves, her universal translator automatically translating the titles for her. Somehow she's disappointed. She misses the mystery and adjusts the settings, nodding in satisfaction. There are a few little statuettes scattered here and there among the books, a map of Palaven and its moon Menae on one wall and her heart aches knowing Palaven, like Earth, like her own home planet, burns. She forces the thought away, her stomach turning.

Touching a button on the wall she shutters the windows over the couch, blocking out the light from passing sky cars and flashing ads. She's grateful for the noise filters blocking out the sounds of the traffic and closes her eyes, relishing in the silence. At least in the silence she can't hear the screams.

She scans the collection of data pads and magazines on the coffee table but doesn't touch them. She isn't sure why, just that it doesn't feel right.

Finally she wanders through the door and into Thax's room leaving a trail of dirty clothes in her wake.


	3. Chapter 3

When Thax returns he isn't sure Talatha's still there until he sees the jacket she'd brought with her lying neatly folded on the couch where she'd left it. Thax has never been that good at identifying the difference in human sizes, they all look the same to him, his latest shopping adventure is proof enough of that. If he had to guess though, he'd say the jacket is two sizes too big and Thax wonders if it belongs to her father. He can smell dried blood and scorched leather coming from it, metal and human sweat. It doesn't smell at all like her.

“Talatha?” He sets the bags he's brought home on the counter, pulling out food and trying to decide if he has enough skill to make her something actually edible or if he should just leave it up to her.

“Talatha?” he tries again, glancing at the door to his room which is now closed. “Are you still here?” He's still putting things away when the door slides open and Talatha steps out, her dirty clothes bundled in her arms and humming softly. She's wearing one of Thax's shirts, wet hair still dripping and leaving dark spots on the fabric and he's struck dumb by the sight. The high collar of the casual wear usually so snug around his own throat sags down around her neck, the fabric draping strangely on her human frame, the bottom of the shirt hanging almost to her knees. It's somehow as adorable as it is funny.

Thax is surprised at the laughter rising in his chest at the sight of her, starting to laugh as she sets her clothes on the couch and turns to face him, the sleeves of the shirt sliding down over her hands and dwarfing her. She looks younger without the dirt and grime on her face and he idly wonders just how old she is.

The laughter bubbles up inside him, turning high and desperate as it reaches his throat. He doesn't want to laugh at her, he's fairly certain that's rude on both their planets, but it feels so good he can't stop. He doesn't know how badly he's needed a reason to laugh until he's leaning against the counter and the laughter turns to tears.

Talatha stares at him in surprise, frightened by the change. She creeps into the kitchen her bare feet padding softly against the floor as she comes to stand beside him, her hand resting feather-light against his arm, a silent question.

“Thax?” She sounds so hesitant, so afraid and Thax hates that he's made her feel that way even if he doesn't know why. He'd just wanted to make her feel safe and here his is making a scene in his own kitchen.

He shakes his head, covering her hand with one of his own. “It's okay,” he chokes, his subvocals keening in distress, belying his words but he doesn't think she's capable of recognizing the sound. Part of him wishes she were. “You just...reminded me of my sister.” His throat is tight and his words come out thin, high and rasping.

Wrapping both her hands around his one, Talatha draws Thax away from the counter and over to the couch. She tucks her feet up under her, drawing the blanket into her lap as Thax sinks onto the cushions next to her. She takes his hand again, holding it in both of hers and waiting.

Thax hangs his head, the tears finally spilling over the plates beneath his eyes and down his face. Talatha reaches up and touches the wet in curiosity as if it's unexpected. Thax watches her as she brushes his tears away.

“I didn't know turians could cry,” she says softly studying the water on her fingers. “Now it just seems such a silly notion.”

Thax shakes his head, grateful for the change in subject. “Not really. A lot of species don't cry,” he says, wiping at his face, embarrassed to have broken down like that.  
Talatha cups his hand again, water dripping from her hair. Thax idly thinks he should have brought her shampoo as well.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and he isn't sure if he's apologizing for the outburst or not thinking of it earlier.

Talatha squeezes his hand. “Where's your sister now?” she asks. “The one I reminded you of?”

Thax tries to smile. “My youngest sister is back on Palaven with my parents.” Talatha's heart drops, her eyes drifting to the map of his home planet hanging on the wall, but she doesn't say what they're both thinking. She can't. Because if she does it means there's no hope for her family either and she can't bear the thought.

“One day when we were kids she came running into the main room during dinner dressed in one of my father's work shirts. He's a captain in the turian fleet. The last I heard he was on Menae.” He waves a hand, dismissing that train of thought.

“Anyway, the sleeves were dragging on the ground behind her like two trailing flags, the neck of the shirt gaping open, far too big for her, but she puffed out her chest and began strutting around the room, hands on her little hips, head held high like she was the mightiest captain ever to live. She said, 'I'm daddy, the greatest captain of the entire fleet' and made a face mimicking him.”

Talatha giggles as Thax mimics the sound of his sister's voice, one hand on his hip, his other still holding Talatha's. His mandibles flare in what Talatha expects is the equivalent of a human puffing out their cheeks.

“And then she reprimanded us all for laughing at her.” His smiles falls and his shoulders begin to sag, shaking his head.

“She was so imperious. And somehow managed to capture his essence perfectly.” Tears wet his eyes again. “Dad always called her his little space captain after that.” He smiles wryly at Talatha. “It's one of my favorite memories.”

Talatha squeezes his hand again. “What happened to her? Did she ever become a captain?”

Thax shakes his head. “No, that honor went to my older sister actually, Padema. Tericci is a teacher of all things.” He shakes his head. “It was the last thing any of us expected.”

“When did you last see them?” Talatha asks trying to keep him talking.

Thax takes a deep breathe, tilting his head back and blinking. “Spirits,” he breathes, “five years?” He sounds surprised. “Has it really been that long?” His heart aches at the realization. “My sister is in the fleet, defending Palaven last I heard, but my parents, Tericci...” He shakes his head, guilt rising up to choke him. “I always meant to go home and visit them, but it just...never worked out. And now.” He trails off, fear taking his voice. “I may never see them again.”

He doesn't know what he wants in that moment, what he needs, just sits there and keens in distress, rocking gently, but Talatha seems to know instinctively and reaches for him. She barely knows him, this strange man, this turian who's invited her into his home, offered to help and protect her, but it feels natural when she pulls him into her arms, holding him close as he weeps, the fear that's taken root in his heart fully blossoming. It feels awkward when he holds her tighter, bending her spine and clutching at her like she's a boulder in the middle of a torrent, the only thing keeping him from drowning in panic and sorrow and she aches for him.

Their bodies are awkward slotted together, their angles all wrong, but it's what he needs, what they both do, so she holds him, even when she develops a crick in her neck and her spine begins to ache, she holds him and lets him hold her as they cry.  
~

Thax finally sits back, taking a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drop all of that on you.”

Talatha sits up, tears still damp on her cheeks. She reaches up and palms away Thax's tears and the gesture feels oddly intimate. “You needed it. And don't worry,” she says cradling his face in her hands. “We'll find them. Yours and mine both.”

Thax pats her knee. “Yes, we will,” he agrees. “But here.” He uses her knee for leverage, pushing off it as he stands. “I've brought you something.” He retrieves one of the bags from the kitchen and sets it down beside her, lifting the dress out.

Talatha blinks at him in surprise as he hands it to her. “You bought it? For me?”  
Thax shrugs, suddenly self-conscious. “Your clothes...” He gestures awkwardly to the pile of laundry she'd brought out with her after her shower. “They just- I mean- it looked like you could use something new.” He can feel his neck heating.

Talatha holds the dress in her lap, running her fingers over the cloth. “Thank you.”  
“It's inappropriate isn't it? I thought it might be. I knew this was a bad idea.” He covers his face with a hand, beginning to pace. “I didn't mean anything by it, I swear-”

“Thax,” Talatha interrupts standing beside him. She touches his arm, drawing him to a stop, her voice quiet but emphatic. “Thank you.”

Thax tries to smile. “Yeah.” His neck is still warm and he tries to lighten the mood. “Well you can't wear my shirts forever,” he jokes.

Talatha spreads her arms and looks down, the dress draped over one arm. “Well why not? I think it looks rather dashing on me.” She turns in a circle with a giggle. “And it's decidedly comfortable.”

Thax rests his big hands on her shoulders, flicking a strand of hair out of her face. “Yes, but if anyone sees you they'll think...well, I mean-”

“They'll think you're taking advantage of me.” Talatha giggles. “Funny. I should think I'm the one taking advantage of you.” She steps out from under Thax's hands and makes her way to the bathroom to change.

Thax stares after her, unsure of what to make of what she'd said. “All the same, you'd best change.” The words feel awkward and a beat late, but he can't think of anything else to say.

Talatha smiles at him over her shoulder and shuts the door. She comes out a few minutes later trying not to laugh. Thax sees her and has far less control. He covers his mouth with one hand but it's not enough to stop the stream of giggles coming out of him as he sees her in the dress.

Talatha flaps her arms, the sleeves hanging down just past her fingers and stumbles in a circle, the dress tangling around her legs.

“It's a little big don't you think?” The dress looks far too big, not nearly as over sized as the shirt she'd borrowed from Thax, but the difference is still obvious.

Still laughing Thax crosses the room and pulls her into an unexpected hug and she makes a sound of surprise.

“Thank you,” he murmurs giving her an affectionate squeeze before stepping back.

“For what?” she asks.

“Giving me a reason to laugh, not just once today, but twice.” He tries to smile, his heart feeling lighter than it has in months. “I didn't realize I'd needed it until today.” He gently cuffs her chin. “You're a special kind of girl Talatha Mattingley.”

Talatha grins and nods firmly. “Why yes, I do believe I am.”

~

*Bonus doodle of Talatha in Thax's shirt


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may read as a little choppy and if so I'm sorry. For some reason this chapter was really hard to write.

Talatha sits on one of the desks behind the counter in the docking bay, swinging her feet watching Thax as he works. They've drawn a few odd looks from other C-sec officers but so far no one has said anything for which Thax is grateful. He doesn't quite know how to explain his living situation with Talatha without misconstruing the entire thing.

It's been days since Talatha first moved in with him and still there's been no sign of her parents; or Thax's sister. And there's been no news from Palaven. Talatha thinks maybe the age old adage, no news is good news, was horribly mistaken. No news just allows you imagine the worst. Her stomach turns over at the thought.

At first Thax had tried to insist she stay at the apartment during his shift in the docks, that he would contact her if he heard anything, but she'd refused, insisting on coming with him every morning. She'd stay through the entirety of his shift, usually perched on the same desk in the corner and watching him work. He suspects she's bored much of the time but she's insistent on staying and he has to admit he enjoys the company. Some days she wanders, weaving in and out between the refugees, talking with them, helping where she can. She'd single-handedly convinced every c-sec officer she'd met to donate their spare blankets to the refugees, a feat Thax hadn't thought possible.

Her rythmic thumping comes to a brief half. “Tell me a story,” she says beginning to swing her legs again, her eyes scanning to ever growing crowds.

Thax stretches in his chair with a groan, trying to stay awake. His shift is almost up and he can't wait to go lay down. He hasn't been sleeping well and his back hurts.

Talatha imagines she can hear his spine pop as he leans back, the chair creaking beneath him. “I don't know any stories,” he says, groaning as he stretches, his arms finally dropping to his sides with a heavy sigh. “Least of all happy ones.” He tilts his head back to look at her. “How about you tell me one,” he suggests with a smile. The idea seems to catch Talatha off guard and she stares at him owlilshly for a moment.

She rubs at her lips thoughtfully. “Like what?” she asks and for a moment she looks younger than Thax thinks she is.

Thax hums to himself, scratching at a mandible, trying to think. “Tell me,” he drawls, “about your home planet.” He turns in his chair to face her. “Watson right? Out in Skepsis?” He remembers reading something about that when the shuttle had come in. Talatha nods.

“I assume you were born out there. What it was like?”

“You've never been?”

Thax shakes his head. For a moment Talatha forgets Watson is burning. All she remembers is the green.

“You should go. It's beautiful.”

“Is that why your parents went?” He feels like he's stuck his foot in his mouth, but he can't help it. Some morbid part of him wants to know. “Will you tell me about them?”

Talatha's feet slowly come to a stop, the dull thump of her heel strikes falling silent, her eyes distant. She's quiet for so long Thax looks back at her, afraid he's over stepped his bounds and she won't tell him, but then her feet start moving again.

“My mother was a botanist back on Earth,” she say softly, “before I was born. They didn't move out to Watson until a few years after they were married. I was born there.” She gives a wry smile. “Colony kid.” Thax releases a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, relived to see her smiling again. “I've never been you know?”

“Once the war's over I'm sure you will.”

Talatha nods but isn't sure she believes him. “My mother loved plants, but flowers especially.”

The vestiges of a laugh touch her voice. “My father used to say she could grow anything. Could coax roses up from the snow with nothing but a smile.”

Knowing Talatha's smile, he isn't surprised. He swallows and looks away trying not to think about it, but the sound of her voice is magnetic and he has to look at her again. Her eyes are glazed with remembering but there's a spark of life there instead of bitterness and he's relieved. He doesn't want to make her hurt more by remembering.“Orchids were her favorite though.”

“Orchids?” He makes a mental note to do a search for them on the net.

Thax's question draws Talatha back and her gaze sharpens. “They're a type of flower that grows on Earth. They have an assortment of varieties and subspecies. Lovely flowers. My mother liked to study them in her free time, but especially the rare ones.

“She used to travel all around Earth collecting samples to bring back home and grow herself. She'd photograph the rarer species in their natural habitat. Her favorite though was the Rothschild's Slipper.” Talatha gestures with her hands as she speaks. “A delicate looking thing that takes fifteen Earth years to grow and bloom.” She shakes her head in wonder.

Thax's eyes widen. “Fifteen? You can't be serious.”

Talatha nods, delighted by his interest. “Funny little things,” she murmurs staring at her hands. “My mother's seen and grown two of her own into full bloom before I was born. She was working on her second when...” Her lips thin and she forces away that trail of thought looking up at Thax.

“It was going to be my first. I'd seen her tend them in the house, always obsessing over little things,” she says, “like the humidity and the light in the room. She wanted to make sure everything was perfect for them.” She purses her lips and changes directions.

“The long slender petals that stretch out to the side of the bloom look like the arms of a dancer.” She extends her arms and and sways on the desk before standing and doing a small twirl of her own. A laugh thrums in Thax's chest at the sight though several other people shoot her strange looks but she either doesn't notice or doesn't mind. She leans back against the desk with a giggle.

The dress she wears fits better than the one Thax had originally bought for her and it's far less asari. They'd returned the other one and Thax had let Talatha pick this one out herself instead. She still doesn't like it all that much, dresses have never been her thing, a fact her father was always bemoaning, but her other clothes are so scorched and still smell like that night that she can't bring herself to wear them. And it's not like they could find anything all that casual on the Citadel so she tolerates it.

“My father would show me this old vid one of her friends had taken back when she was still in school. It was always late at night when she was fast asleep. My dad said it was so we didn't get caught, but I know she knew what we were up to.

“Whenever we talked about it she would blush and smack him on the arm, scolding him, but she never got rid of the vid. Just kept it stashed away in her sock drawer.”

Thax chuckles softly. “Isn't that where everyone hides their contraband?”

Talatha's lips press into a smile. “If everyone does it you'd think we'd find a better hiding place,” she teases idly.

“What was the vid of?” Thax asks, crossing his arms. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”

Talatha shakes her head. “It was from the night her dancing orchid, the Rothschild Slipper bloomed for the first time.” She giggles and her eyes sparkle. “She'd been growing it since she was a child so you can imagine how excited she was after investing fifteen years of her life into cultivating the flower. She was all giggles in that video, her childish joy bubbling up like a fountain, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling.” Her voice softens. “That was always my favorite video, my favorite memory of her.

“She had her own greenhouse on Watson up on the roof, flowers, fruits, vegetables, all kinds of things. It became a sanctuary of sorts for me, some place to hide when I wanted to be alone. The flowers helped me think.”

She looks at Thax, her head tilting to the side, her hair falling forward over her shoulder. “They talk you know. If you know how to listen.”

He leans towards her. “If a flower were ever going to talk I have no doubt it would want to talk to you Talatha.” He gently cuffs her chin and smiles. He thinks he's being too forward but the tips of Talatha's ears turn red and she looks away, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She frowns a moment later and looks around the docks. “Pity there isn't more green here.” She wrinkles her nose and Thax's heart aches briefly at the longing in her eyes. “I never was much of a spacer. I like the sun and the earth too much.” She shivers. “It's too cold and dark in space. It always makes me nervous.” She leans forward and lowers her voice. “And transports make me sick.” She crosses her lips with a finger like its their own private secret and Thax feels silly but cherishes that she's entrusted him with it.

They fall silent, Thax's talons clicking over the screens as he turns back to work and Talatha's heels start thumping against the desk again.

“Her Rothschild's orchid was supposed to bloom again next year.” Thax looks at her in surprise. He hadn't expected her to speak again. “It was going to be my first,” she adds, a touch of excitement and sorrow touching her voice, her smile falling. “Now I suppose I'll never see it.”

She rubs at her eyes and turns away, her fingers turning white around the edge of the desk and Thax resists the urge to reach for her.

“You'll have to introduce me when we find them,” he says instead, guilt twisting in his stomach like tainted ryncol. He shouldn't give her false hope, he knows that, but he can't help it. “Your mother sounds wonderful. Your father too.” He hopes he seems more sure in his belief than he feels when he says it. Either way the words bring a smile to Talatha's face.

“I will,” she says, swaying gently, but the words taste bittersweet. “She'd like you,” she adds softly. “My dad too.” Thax clears his throat and turns back to the computer feeling awkward and for a while only the sounds of his talons over the screens fill the air between them.

“I'd like that.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hasn't had a great deal of editing but I hope you enjoy. Talatha is being fairly uncooperative so I'm posting this before I have another chapter ready. >.> Don't judge me. Fanart at the bottom for you.

_“Run Tali!” Gunfire screams past Talatha's head, leaving her tripping over her feet as the few soldiers they have rush to protect the colonists. They do their best to fend off the swarms of converted reaper soldiers; batarian, turian, human, but they're woefully unprepared and they're being overwhelmed. She can hear the shriek of a banshee nearby and feels the shockwave of a biotic blast vibrating through the air making the hair on her arms stand on end. The air crackles with the charge of biotic electricity and she can feel is sizzle and burn against her skin._

_Something flies past her shoulder and explodes ahead of her, the concussion rocking Talatha back off her feet, throwing her backwards as bits of debris go flying. She strikes her head against something, the impact knocking her senseless and leaving her ears ringing. Her palms sting and she struggles to stand, her legs feeling like water beneath her as she tries to get her bearings. She's running again before she can even see straight, her head throbbing, trying to weave her way through the chaos. She's half blind with tears, too afraid to realize she's crying, just desperate to get to the platform._

_She screams and stumbles back as a husk lunges for her from out of an alley, its head exploding just before it reaches her. She winds up covered with bits of dead flesh and shattered electronics, her hands trembling as she holds them in front of her face still waiting for the attack. The man who killed the thing is screaming at her holding a gore smeared pipe in one hand, swinging wildly at another husk, more of them beginning to swarm as he herds her back._

_“Go!” He grabs a hold of her arm, shoving her and she's running again, nearly tripping over her own feet, leaving the man to the husks. In moments the sound of his cries are just another blur amid the cacophony._

_A building burns nearby, the heat searing as she stumbles past, the smoke choking her, making her lungs burn and she careens to the side. People are screaming, tripping over each other, racing for the transports, trampling each other in their desperation._

_There's a cracking whir as the engines flare and Talatha's mouth goes dry as she tries to scream, reaching for the transport as it takes to the air, but she's much too far away, they all are, but it doesn't stop them from trying. A thunderous boom splits the air, rattling the ground beneath her feet and Talatha's eyes are locked on the sky, her throat clamping shut in horror as a beam splits the shuttle in half. She's frozen in place, forced to stare at the sky as the Reaper descends, its colossal body so far beyond anything she's ever seen before she struggles to wrap her head around it as the Reaper turns. The breath freezes in her lungs as the machine seems to stare right at her, the central plates opening, the laser warming up again._

_The last thing Talatha sees is the flash of red light and the concussion of the impact._

~

A sob is lodged somewhere in Talatha's chest and she gasps, struggling to breathe around it, tears tracking back across her temples as she stares wide eyed at the ceiling. Her fists are clenched in the sheets, her back arched and body trembling as she cries, the dream flashing through her mind over and over again in bits and pieces, triggering memories from her escape.

She remembers waking up in the shelter after the Reaper blast, remembers the voices of her parents, soothing her, letting her know it's okay, but she knows it isn't. She remembers the man on the platform, telling them all they have to leave their belongings behind, remembers the shouts and the outrage from the collected refugees, remembers the fighting and the violence. She remembers her father passing her his coat as night falls and she's finally allowed to board the shuttle, alone. Her father assures her they'll catch the next one.

Talatha keens in distress, choking on the memories as she squeezes her eyes shut, her heart aching and rolls over on the couch, burying her face in the cushions as she cries.

~

Thax isn't sure what wakes him, just lies still for a moment, pulse pounding through his temples waiting, listening, trying to pin point what he might have heard but the apartment is silent. He groans and rolls over, trying to go back to sleep, dragging the blanket up over his head but sleep is elusive. His head aches and Thax finally drags himself out of bed, trudging towards the door, half sleep-walking into the kitchen on memory more than sight rummaging for something to curb the pain.

He throws a look at Talatha lying on the couch with her back to him and he hopes she's sleeping better than he is. He fills a glass with water and downs two pills before heading back to his room, his feet dragging across the floor.

Someone sniffles and in his sleep deprived stupor it takes Thax a while to process what he's heard, staring dumbly in Talatha's direction.

“Talatha?” Her name comes out slurred and heavy and he shakes his head, trying to clear it. He hears a muffled sob and sits down on the end of the couch, his movements slow, waiting for some kind of reaction from her as he sets the glass down.

“Bad dream?” he asks softly, his head still feeling fuzzy.

Talatha forces an awkward nod, the movement stiff against the cushions. She shakes and cries, still caught in the dream and the memories, arms wrapped around her chest.

“What do you need?” Thax's hand hovers above her hip wanting to help, but unsure what to do.

Talatha shakes her head and cries, unable to form words through the tears.

He lets his hand rest gently against her hip. “Do you want me to leave?”

She shakes her head no, curling in on herself like she's trying to keep all the pieces from falling apart and gropes blindly for his hand, clutching it tightly.

“Okay.” He feels useless. “Do you...” He isn't sure how to help, but thinks back to when she held him and how much it seemed to help. “Do you need a hug?” It feels pathetic and useless but after a moment Talatha nods, choking on a sob, her eyes squeezed shut, her grip on his hand almost painful and he uses it to leverage her into a sitting position. He wraps her in a blanket before scooping her into his arms, pulling her into his lap and cradling her against his chest, using a talon to carefully tuck her hair back behind her ears.

She weeps against his neck as he holds her close, tucking her beneath his chin and telling her stories about his family, bits of poetry and phrases he remembers, because he needs to keep talking and he doesn't know what else to do.

~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the awesome Barbex who kept this from getting too out of hand. <3 I love you. Also, the pillow fight short is entirely her fault.  
> ~  
> There are probably a few more things that need work but I'm tired of hoarding it so here you are.

Talatha wakes the next morning with Thax's arm draped around her waist, heavy and warm, comforting. The pillow he'd bought for her is wedged firmly against his shoulder and the armrest and cradles her head from the hard plates of his body though his slow breaths stir her hair gently. Talatha stares at the far wall, watching dust motes dancing in the artificial sunlight as it streams in through the window, a deep pang for the real thing lodging in her heart for a reason she can't quite place. Thax is breathing slow and deep at her back, his chest thrumming softly against her ribs and she's surprised at how comfortable it is. It's so familiar, to wake up wrapped around someone you trust after a deep sleep knowing you're safe and it terrifies her. It's just so...normal. And it shouldn't be. They're in the middle of a war, Thax is a stranger as well as a turian, and she's a stranded refugee on board a giant floating a city in space. Nothing about this is normal.

But maybe, if she just closes her eyes and dreams really hard, she'll wake up on a sunny morning on Watson, her arms wrapped around Ceriah, the low hum of her parents chatting in the kitchen as they make breakfast, with real sunlight streaming in through the blinds over her windows. For a brief moment the dream is so real she can practically taste it, but it turns to ash in her mouth, leaving her stomach heaving. She can't go back, not now, maybe not ever, and she certainly can't stay; though some part of her desperately wants to. 

That desire frightens her. This situation, Thax, it's only temporary, she can't get attached. It'll hurt too much. He's just being kind. Soon Talatha's parents will be there to get her and everything will be okay, they can go back- 

Tears prick her eyes and she buries her face in the pillow, mentally scolding herself. It won't be okay and she'll never wake up back at home to listen to her father drone on about some new samples early in the morning and she'll never see Ceriah laugh ~~ing~~ in the early morning light again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Her shoulders tremble and Thax's grip around her shifts, pulling her closer and he nuzzles at the back of her head.

“'s okay,” he murmurs into her hair and Talatha swallows a sob, covering his hand with her own and holds him tight, struggling to bring the tears back under control. Thax's chest expands with every breath against her back and she struggles to match his rhythm, trying to breathe through the tears and swallow them back. “More bad dreams?” he asks and his voice is soft and comforting, still thrumming with sleep, and she doesn't think she's ever heard anything more wonderful. She nods into the sofa, streaking tears across the cushions. 

“What can I do?”

Talatha bites her lip and turns over, surprising him as she presses herself tightly against the jagged planes of Thax's chest, hiding her face in the darkness. “Hold me.” Her voice cracks around the words and she knows it's a bad idea, to take comfort in him when what she really needs is distance, but she's not strong enough to resist, not when she can still smell the blackened flesh of Ceriah's body, the blistering heat as it burned her fingers and the blood slicking her hands. 

Thax runs a hand over her hair, smoothing it back and pulling the blanket further up over her shoulder as she cries, the memory like an open wound in her chest. “Okay.”

~

“Do you want to talk to me about it?” 

Thax's voice breaks through the thin veil of dreams she still lies beneath and Talatha realizes she must have fallen asleep again. The light in the apartment has shifted, warming with mid day cycle, the dust motes still spinning and drifting through the rays. Somehow she finds that comforting before turning back against Thax's chest.

She buries her face in the shadow of his cowl, her skin feeling dry and tight from crying. 

“Didn't you have work today?” she mumbles against his chest, half afraid he'll get up; just as afraid he won't. She she should move but can't bring herself to leave the safety of his arms and when did that happen?

“You're more important,” he says, softly running his hand up and down her back and Talatha's heart skips. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Talatha tries to pull away, but Thax just adjusts his grip on her, not tight enough that she couldn't force her way free, but enough that she knows he wants her to stay. His breath ghosts across her forehead in what might be a laugh and she wants to smile but can't find the energy. She slowly relents and settles back down again, not truly willing to get up. 

“Are you?" he presses gently, "okay I mean?”

Talatha squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, her throat clicking as she tries to swallow. “No,” she rasps. “I'm not.” She takes a shaky breath, shifting until her head is just beneath Thax's chin and plunges ahead through the tears, the words coming out broken and jagged. “I was dreaming. About home. When the Reapers-” Her heartbeat trips at the memory. “It was chaos," she breathes," but the worst part wasn't the husks or reaper soldiers...it was...the people.” She tries to fight back the memories and the horror they bring, the smell of death and ash but she can't and it's suffocating her, squeezing her lungs until she gasps but still she can't breathe. 

“Shh,” Thax whispers. “It's okay. I know it hurts but don't fight it. It's already happened. Let it come and let it pass.” He cradles her, stroking her hair and Talatha trembles, releasing the sob that's been strangling her, letting the memory wash over her and Thax holds her until it's passed. 

It feels like an hour before she's able to draw a breath that doesn't feel tainted and goes on, her voice raw. “They were killing each other, fighting for a space on the transports as the machines landed, but there weren't enough, there wasn't enough space, people had to stay behind.” She swallows, her tongue feeling too thick. "People were trampled, shoved from the shuttles while they were in the air. They hit the ground with dull thuds when the shuttles were low, popping if they were higher.” Thax wishes she would stop, what she's saying makes his stomach churn. And yet he can't bring himself to tell her to stop, to be that selfish, so he sits in silence and waits for her to speak. 

Talatha shakes her head and clutches at Thax as if he can protect her from the memories. “And that was just the first day. A reaper beam struck the city, the blast knocking me out as I tried to reach a shuttle but it-” She chokes and gags on the memories, the terror,she's trembling, her eyes wide and unseeing. “-and it killed her." Her eyes water, tears streaming down her temples and over the bridge of her nose as her hand tightens around Thax's arm. "Oh gods she's dead, she's dead, she's-” She buries her face in Thax's chest and shrieks, sobs wracking her body and it's some time before she can go on, before she can sort the memory from the reality that she's here, she's safe and Ceriah isn't still lying dead in her arms. 

Thax presses soothing words to her hair, trying to talk her down from her terror until it works. He strokes her hair until she comes back, her body going limp.

“I remember bits and pieces," she rasps, going on but Thax wishes she wouldn't. She's said enough. He knows it's selfish but he can't help it. He doesn't want her to have to relive it, but some part of him desperately wants to help her share the burden if he can, to carry some of that dreadful weight for her. "My parents told me they found me in the street clutching her body and screaming,” she whispers. 

"I remember her eyes. Staring up at me from the charred remains of her face and do you know what that's like, to stare into the face of someone you loved and know they're never coming back?” She shakes her head, a broken, jagged motion she can't quite seem to stop. “It's surreal. You can't wrap your head around it." She stares unblinking until her eyes are dry and burning. "We managed to find shelter with some others after the blast and another working shuttle. That's where I remember waking up, in the shelter. I thought the images floating in my head of Ceriah were a nightmare, until I found out they weren't. That I couldn't wake up from the nightmare because I was already awake.” 

She curls her hand into a fist until her joints ache. "I had a concussion. The blast knocked me off my feet. Something hit my head.

“My parents stayed behind. The shuttle was taking the youngest aboard but there was still so much violence, so much fighting and arguing and yelling. They were trying to help but we weren't letting them.” She pulls away and looks at Thax. “Why did it have to be like that?” Her gaze is searching, as if actually expecting an answer but all he can do is shake his head. 

“I don't know," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His heart aches for her. "I really don't.” He brushes away her tears with a thumb, careful not to hurt her but she doesn't seem to notice.

“I feel like I'm living in a nightmare, like some day I'm just going to wake up and they'll all be there and it'll be fine.” She scrubs at her eyes with the heel of one hand until she sees stars. 

“Who was she?" he ventures when silence starts to slide between them. "The girl?”

Talatha tries to smile but it cracks and withers. “Ceriah,” and the name is heavy and weighted with horror and memory. “She was my neighbor and best friend and lover and everything I thought I would ever need; even after we fell apart. 

“We still managed to be friends afterwards, to be there and support each other. It's like she was a part of me, like a leg and now she's gone and I've forgotten how to walk.” She cries into her hands and Thax sits up, cradling her face in his hands. He presses his cheek to one of hers and then the other in the only gesture of comfort he knows, his sub vocals thrumming when he can't find the words, somehow hoping it will help. 

Talatha hiccups, her tears catching on his mandible as Thax murmurs against her ear. She chokes on a sob, leaning into his touch, feeling fractured.

“I'm scared,” she confesses, letting her face rest in the palm of his hands, letting herself be weak and broken for just this moment. Her parents would want her to be brave but she can't. “I'm so damn scared.” She trembles in his arms and Thax holds her close as if that will keep all of her broken pieces from sliding apart.

“So am I.” 


End file.
